


Pinch

by phoenixyfriend



Series: Blame Tumblr Prompts [22]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Light BDSM, M/M, Pushy Bottoms, mentions of - Freeform, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8694427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixyfriend/pseuds/phoenixyfriend
Summary: In which Izuna is kind of a douchebag, but the tables get turned, and... he's perfectly alright with that, honestly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the tumblr prompt:
> 
> "could I please reqest either 16 or 27? whichaver one you want todo for izuna uchiha /itama senju? (I reallylike that pairing) thank you for your time!"
> 
> 27\. the one where you can transfer any injuries/pain your soulmate has onto yourself
> 
> This prompt was obviously intended to be an angsty one.
> 
> However, due to a personal issue (which I won't discuss here; ask on tumblr if you really want to know), I took it in a completely different direction.

The thing is, the whole “feel your soulmate’s pain” thing is a double-edged sword for a lot of reasons. Feeling your soulmate dying is a horrible experience. Taking on part of their pain can be helpful to them when they’re in agony (and is one of the few reasons that the pain of childbirth isn’t contested; a good 85% of the population that gets past a certain age _knows_  what it feels like, even at half-strength when shared).

It can be a way to say “I’m okay” at distances, sending little pinpricks of pain through pinching skin in Morse code.

It can be a way of punishing one’s soulmate, for the abusive ones, making sure they _feel_  one’s pain by self-harming.

And sometimes, it just let soulmates be assholes to one another.

Uchiha Izuna is unashamed of the fact that he’s one of those assholes.

The fact that Senju Itama is his soulmate is part of what’s helping the peace talks actually go through. Madara still holds grudges for their other siblings, of course, and Izuna has a sneaking suspicion that Senju Tobirama, at least, isn’t all that happy about the peace talks for similar reasons (Izuna thinks that maybe his name was Kawarama? He isn’t sure), but the two of them are willing to put that aside for the sake of peace and their little brothers’ happiness.

Izuna mostly just likes the way Itama blushes sometimes. It’s cute.

It’s even cuter when it’s Izuna’s fault, and tinged with exasperation or just the mildest hint of anger.

Itama doesn’t get angry very easily, so Izuna considers it a personal accomplishment whenever he manages it.

“Behave,” Madara mutters as they make their way into the hall that the peace talks are being held in. Izuna snorts. Considering Madara’s _colorful_  history with politics and bureaucracy, Izuna doubts that _he’s_ the one that needs to put effort into behaving.

On the other hand, Itama is there.

He waves shyly, mismatched hair somewhat tamed into a short ponytail that spikes up on one side, and takes a seat at Hashirama’s left side, directly opposite of Izuna. Tobirama is on Hashirama’s other side, a shuttered hint of a sneer on his face. Their cousin, the woman whose name Izuna’s blanking on, takes a post by the door, expression impassive.

There aren’t any weapons allowed, of course, but it’s not like any of them really _need_  them.

Hashirama and Madara start talking, and Izuna lets himself just watch Itama. He really is adorable, and Izuna feels a mixture of emotions whenever he sees the scars that litter Itama’s exposed skin; a stab of guilt for his clan almost killing his soulmate, a rush of embarrassment that an entire squad failed to kill a single child, resentment that they died, and pride in Itama for surviving to adulthood… it’s all there, wrapped up in those scars.

(Izuna wants to skim his teeth over the pale lines in Itama’s skin, make him squeal and squirm and beg for release.)

(Izuna should not be thinking these thoughts at a peace talk unless he wants half the Senju in the room gunning for his head.)

Izuna discreetly pinches the skin on the underside of his forearm to distract himself.

Itama flinches.

Izuna blinks and stares. The look Itama gives him is more of a pout than anything else, but Izuna immediately understands what just happened.

_Oh._

He has to fight to keep from showing the smirk that wants to overtake his face. Hashirama and Madara don’t notice a thing, of course, too focused on each other, but Itama looks alarmed already, and Tobirama’s as suspicious as ever.

Izuna turns to watch the actual discussions, pretending that nothing just happened, sliding his hands into the opposite sleeves to hide them. Out of the corner of his eye, he still sees Itama, and he tries not to grin again.

_Pinch_.

Itama doesn’t flinch this time, but he does go very, very still at the tiny hint of almost-pain at the inside of his elbow that makes its way through the soulmate bond.

Izuna moves his hands minutely, and--

_Pinch_.

Itama’s glaring at him now, so Izuna drops his hands to his lap and sends his soulmate an apologetic grin. Itama frowns for a moment, and then nods, apparently accepting that this is over.

Izuna moves a hand to the inside of his thigh, way up high, and--

_Pinch._

Itama goes red and squeaks.

* * *

 

When there’s a break in the proceedings, Itama rushes out, face flaming. Izuna ambles after him, ignoring the way Tobirama tries to grab his arm and question him. This only works because Hashirama grabs his brother to ask his opinion on something in a quiet corner, probably because Tobirama is the one that actually understands logistics and such, if what Izuna’s heard is right.

The Senju woman by the door snorts as he makes his way past her. “Damn. Haven’t seen the brat go that red since an Uzumaki girl at his last birthday party wouldn’t stop drunkenly flirting with him.”

“Uh...” Izuna isn’t quite sure how to react to that.

“If you break his heart, I’ll kick your ass,” the woman promises. “But if you make him go that red on the regular, I can’t imagine your intentions are _that_ bad.”

“Right.” Izuna edges past her.

(She’s intimidating, he admits. He’s pretty sure he could take her, but still.)

He finds Itama in the hallway, fuming.

“What was that?!” He demands, striding up to Izuna and poking him in the chest.

Izuna grabs the hand before it pulls away and brings it up to his mouth, kissing the finger that had been used to poke him. “You blush when I do what I did in there.”

“It’s _weird,”_ Itama protests.

“Does it actually hurt that much?” Izuna asks, though he’s sure it doesn’t. It’s just pinching, and less than half-strength for Izuna at that, since it’s shared. More of an echo of sensation than actual hurt.

“I--no, of course not, but you--it’s weird!” Itama protests again, outright spluttering. “And you were pinching in weird places!”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Izuna asks idly, taking a few steps forward and crowding Itama against that wall. “Like I said, it makes you blush and get all angry.”

He brings up a hand to Itama’s cheek and smiles as the younger man’s face flares red yet again. “And you are _adorable_  when you blush.”

Itama gapes for a moment, and then there’s a hint of determination before Izuna’s world suddenly whirls and he finds himself with his back to the wall, a short Senju pushing them chest-to-chest, with a knee pushing up against a _very_  sensitive area. There’s one hand holding both of Izuna’s wrists together above his head, and another trailing a thumb with just slightly too much pressure down his throat.

Izuna knows his pupils must be blown wide by now. Um. This was unexpected.

His mouth feels very dry all of a sudden.

“You know,” Itama comments, eyes skimming over Izuna’s face. “Touka said that she’d heard you were into manhandling, but I hadn’t expected it to actually be true.”

“The woman by the door?” Izuna asks, a little distracted by the thumb that is by now pressing against the hollow of his throat. He hasn’t been choked out during sex before, but he loves the idea of it.

“Mm-hm. I can’t say I’m all that into it,” Itama notes, “But I haven’t exactly got much experience, so what do I know? Still...”

He leans in and his teeth just barely scrape against the edge of Izuna’s ear as he whispers, “You do make the most _interesting_ faces when I do this.”

The hand at his throat drops away, and Izuna mourns its disappearance for all of a moment before it lands at the join of his legs putting just the barest of pressures against his nethers.

(Nethers that are currently very hard and not at all subtle.)

“Please fuck me,” he gasps out before he can stop himself. Itama jerks back in surprise and stares at him.

Izuna wants to ride this man like there’s no tomorrow. Or maybe he just wants Itama to push his face into the mattress and slam into him forever. Either works, so long as Izuna gets filled and gets to have sex with the beautiful man who somehow didn’t realize exactly how this position and those words were going to affect him.

“I don’t have any lubricant,” Itama finally says. “And even if you might enjoy the pain, which is definitely the vibe I’m getting right now--”

“I wouldn’t,” Izuna promises, and then whines as the hand on his crotch gives an absentminded squeeze.

“Even if you might, i definitely wouldn’t. So that doesn’t really seem like--”

“There’s probably oil in the hotel’s kitchens,” Izuna says in a rush. “We can--I mean, that’ll work, right?”

Itama stares at him for a moment. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

Oh god, is he a virgin? Or just unaccustomed to men? Izuna isn’t exactly the most experienced of men himself, but still. He’s had a few lovers and at least knows a few things by now.

“I’ll walk you through it,” Izuna promises. “Now, can we move this to one of our rooms? I’m--nngh.”

Itama tilts his head and stares as Izuna cuts off with a strangled noise, which isn’t very fair since Itama was the one playing with Izuna’s dick through his pants in the first place.

“Yeah, okay.”

Izuna’s not sure when the tables got turned like this, but he isn’t exactly complaining.


End file.
